Why, age?

A door,
Guarded by the threatening,
Entered by the intrigued,
Only if they qualify.

For their mind isn’t considered,
Only their money,
And age.

Some go to impress,
Others to criticise,
But few to feel.

Feel.
A trapped woman in an immature body,
Their to feel.
Feel the rhythm,
Feel the mood.

Loose a troubled mind for but a mere two hours,
See the world from the view of another.

No.
“You’ll drink”
“You’ll smoke”
“You’ll do drugs”
Only because of my age?


I will tell you this sir,
I already do,
I listen to these vibrations.

Noise, out of a box.
How can I not be trusted with that?